Does That Mean You Hate Me?
by lucifershipsdestiel
Summary: If anyone asks, Dean's scream was totally manly. It wasn't even a scream, really. More of a cry of surprise, because honestly, wouldn't you be surprised to see a fully clothes angel of the lord (who also happens to be your best friend) in the shower with you?


**Hello!**

**This probably won't be very good, since I'm tired as hell and can't really focus but I've been procrastinating writing this one shot for a long time and I really wanted to just do it already. This has probably been done hundreds of times before but whatever, there's no such thing as too much Destiel fanfiction.**

**Hope you enjoy and tell me what you think! xx**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the show or whatever it is you say in disclaimers I guess...**

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If anyone asks, Dean's scream was totally manly. It wasn't even a scream, really. More of a cry of surprise, because honestly, wouldn't you be surprised to see a full clothes angel of the lord (who also happens to be your best friend) in the shower with you?

And if said cry or surprise (It wasn't a scream, don't listen to anything Sam says) had caused his brother to burst into the bathroom with a gun and then laugh hysterically on the floor for a while it doesn't mean it was because of the situation. Sam probably just remembered a funny joke, because there was nothing funny about what was happening.

At first, Dean was simply too shocked to remember that he was naked. And wet. And (most importantly) hard. And of course Cas' blush and his mouth opening and closing silently as he was trying to make a sound and the little glances he kept sneaking at Dean, each one getting lower down his exposed body, was not helping at all.

The water was still running and Dean noticed Castiel was getting wet, or more accurately, he noticed the way the now wet clothes clung to his body.

Sam's laughter finally ceased into small giggles, and Cas managed to form words. Unluckily, those were the wrong words. The only words that could make things even more embarrassing than they already were. "You, err, have a nice, uh, penis."

Dean's head snapped up in surprise to look at Cas, whose eyes were widened in horror as he realized what he had just said. Both their faces were the darkest shade of red a man's face could possibly get, and obviously Sam being there to laugh even harder than before (apparently it _was_ possible) didn't make it any better.

Dean quickly turned off the water and stepped out of the small cubical as he reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Sammy." He said through gritted teeth. "Get the hell out of here, now." Sam just giggled his way out of the bathroom, and then out of the motel room. Stupid Samantha and her giggles. Dean turned to Cas, glaring at his still wet form. "Get out of there, wouldja?" Not waiting for a reply, he walked out of the bathroom.

"Mind telling me what the hell just happened in there?" Dean snapped as Cas followed him. He couldn't quite believe that it was actually happening. One minute he's enjoying himself in the shower, the next there's a certain Castiel standing dangerously close to him.

Cas' blush grew - If Dean hadn't been so embarrassed himself, he might have stopped to appreciate how adorable his angel blushing was – and he mumbled "You called me." Without looking into Dean's eyes. "You sounded like you were in trouble."

"What- Cas, I didn't call-" Dean stopped when realization hit him. Oh. "I, uh- fuck." He sighed in defeat as he realized that he had been calling Cas, but it wasn't exactly a cry for help. More of a cry of pleasure, actually. It wasn't something he did regularly, hell, it wasn't even something he did often. That is, of course, if you don't count the last three months. Until now though, he never was loud. Lip biting worked just fine for him so far, he managed to keep quiet and not call Cas' name, but nothing lasts forever, not that Dean didn't already know that. And now he had to talk and explain himself to Castiel, who would probably hate him, or already hates him, doesn't really make a difference.

"Look, man, I'm sorry. I didn't- I mean, I won't… I won't blame you if you hated me, I probably deserve it, but-"

"I don't hate you." Cas simply said, taking a hesitant small step closer.

Dean's head shot up in surprise and he looked into Castiel's eyes. "Y-You don't hate me?" The angel shook his head in response. "But, I was, uh, you know. You don't think it's weird or, uh, want nothing to do with me?" He raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

Castiel frowned. "Why would I think or want such things?" He asked, and Dean internally cursed the cute signature head tilt that followed. "I-I don't know, man. Most guys would usually be creeped out if they find out that their best friend, who's a male, is in love with them, I guess?"

"In love?" Castiel's eyes widened in shock and Dean had to hold back from slapping himself. Of course Cas didn't understand that. God knows what he was thinking in that angelic mind of his. Whatever little chance he had to get away with it, _now_ he messed it up. Good job, Winchester.

"Oh crap, Cas. No, you know what, forget I said anything. Any chance we can forget this whole thing happened?" Dean tried desperately, now convinced that his – no, not his, THE – angel hated him.

"But I don't want to forget about it, Dean."

For what was probably the four hundredth time that evening, Cas surprised Dean. And it was immediately followed by the four hundred and one time, which featured Cas stepping even closer to Dean and shyly pressing his lips to the hunter's.

It was barely a kiss, and it only lasted half a second, but that was the best half a second Dean had had in a while now. Unfortunately (for who exactly, it was unknown) once he got that half a second, he realized it wasn't enough at all.

Dean placed his hands on Castiel's waist and pulled him closer, this time into a real kiss. Not just a brush of their lips against each other like the first one, but a passionate 'I-want-you-as-close-as-possible' kiss that lasted as long as they both could go without air.

Castiel had one hand on Dean's back and another gently running through Dean's sandy brown hair. Their foreheads were resting against each other's and they were breathing heavily, a huge smile plastered on both of their faces.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm in love with you. Does that mean you hate me?" Cas asked teasingly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Shut up, everybody knows I'm an idiot." Dean chuckled, but couldn't help the wave of warmth that rushed through his body at the words 'I'm in love with you.'

"True. Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Your towel is on the floor."


End file.
